Hunter Quest: To Be A Pokemon Master
by SweetAutumnWine
Summary: Gon's father left him in the care of his aunt, Mito, to become a Pokemon Master. Eleven years later, Gon wants to follow in his father's footsteps. Along his journey, he meets new friends and makes new enemies, all while aiming to be the very best. Follow Gon's growth as a Pokemon trainer. Stay for the New Team Rocket. Experience the wonderful world of Pokemon in the HxH universe.
1. Chapter 1

Gon always awoke early, just in time to see the sun rise over the highest crest of Wailmer Island. The morning air filled his lungs and brought life back to his rested limbs. With unparalleled vigor, he leapt out of bed in a nearly perfect parabola, landing loudly on the wooden floor.

This morning, his heart raced with new excitement, the kind he could no longer contain.

In a few short hours, a respected professor, whose studies were regarded with the utmost respect and accolades, would be arriving by ship. And rumor had it, he was bringing some specimens, the pinnacle of his research:

Pokemon.

Aunt Mito was already in the kitchen, frying eggs over the stove, by the time Gon had dressed and styled his hair.

"Good morning, Aunt Mito!" Gon chirped, swiping the short stack of plates from the counter so he could begin setting the table.

"Good morning, Gon," Mito said, somewhat reluctantly. She eyed her nephew as he bustled about, his dark eyes robust and gleaming. At the ripe age of 12, he was certainly more physically fit than any other child she had encountered, but he was young nonetheless. Sending him off on his own adventure, with no one to guide him, or watch over him, or…

"Aunt Mito! The bacon!"

Gon's sudden cry brought Mito back to reality, and she scrambled to turn off the heat beneath the sizzling bacon. Gon collapsed on one of the chairs, leaning back so the front legs hovered waveringly, so that he could prop his feet on the table.

"You've got to pay more attention," Gon chided, biting into a slice of toast. "Don' wanna burn th'ouse down."

"Don't talk with your mouth full,' Mito said absently, flipping an egg so the yolk was on top.

Mito supposed she couldn't convince Gon to stay. He was stubborn, almost as stubborn as his father, and when he set his heart on something, by Jove, he'd do anything to achieve it.

She flipped the other egg in the pan, but this time, she must've been too rough. The runny yolk spread from a crack in the thin membrane, hissing when it puddled on the bottom of the pan.

Despite knowing the boy wouldn't change his mind, Mito steeled herself. She had to try.

"Gon," she said, turning the stove completely off, "are you sure you want to meet with the professor today?"

"Of course!" he responded. "I mean, he probably won't come back to Wailmer Island. Who knows if I'll ever get this chance again!"

Mito bit her bottom lip. She gently placed the unbroken egg on Gon's plate before slapping the broken one, the yolk hard and dark, on her own plate. "You're right," she said softly. "You're right. But why are you so determined? You're twelve years old! You're still a child! Why do you want to risk your li—"

Gon's steady gaze stole the words from her mouth and the air from her lungs. "Because," he began, blinking, "I want to."

Mito hung her head. She shouldn't have expected some grand explanation, some divine reasoning. This was Gon, after all.

"My father left everything behind to become a Pokemon master," Gon continued. His eyes fell on the small, framed picture of his father crouching by a motorbike. "He even left me, when I was just a baby! I've got to figure there's something great in being a Pokemon trainer!"

Suddenly enraged, Mito slammed both palms against the table. "Gon, what your father did was… was unbelievably cruel," she said. "I don't want you to throw away your life to copy him."

But Gon shook his head and smiled. "I don't want to copy him," he said. "I want to surpass him. And maybe, along the way, I'll find him, somewhere, someday."

Defeated, Mito sank into her chair and held her head in her hands. "Do you really think you can surpass him, Gon?" she asked, her voice muffled.

"I don't see why not!" he said. "He was twelve when he caught the Red Gyarados, Lord of the Lake, with a Great Rod! I caught him with just an Old Rod!" He jabbed his chest with a thumb and beamed. "Have faith in me, Aunt Mito! I'll come back when I'm a proper Pokemon Trainer!"

She reached across the table to ruffle his hair. "There's no helping it, then," she said. "Make me proud, Gon."

With a mouth full of egg, Gon grinned. "Will do!"

The professor waited on the doc, perched on his suitcase with his eyes closed. A soft hum escaped his wrinkled lips, and the sun beat down on him, warm enough to cause sweat to bead along his brow.

"Professor Netero?"

The old professor opened one eye. Standing a few feet away, hands nervously clasped before him, was a man from the village, presumably one in charge, judging by the look of his robes and the beads hung around his neck.

"I am Netero, the Pokemon professor," Netero said, stepping off his suitcase so he could stand on solid ground. "Thank you for inviting me to your lovely island."

The man fumbled for words, bowing hastily. "No, no, thank you for accepting! It's a great honor. Please, make yourself at home. I apologize if any of our inhabitants are a bit too exuberant. So many of us have been eagerly awaiting your arrival."

"I'm flattered," said Netero, handing off his suitcase to the other man. "Before I subject myself to relentless questioning, would you mind if I explored the island a bit on my own?"

"That's dangerous!" the man blurted. "We might not have many Pokemon on this island, but there are other deadly creatures that—"

Netero held up a solemn hand, and with his other, he dug into the satchel hanging off his hips to retrieve a small red and white ball. "I may not be as young as I used to be," he said with a twinkle in his eye, "but I can handle myself pretty well."

The other man bowed in resignation and apology. "Forgive me, Professor," he said. "Please, explore the island to your heart's content."

"Don't mind if I do," Netero said, smirking. "Take my suitcase to my lodgings. And do be careful; my priceless research is in there." He called the last bit over his shoulder, much to the village leader's dismay, chuckling as the man fretted over the luggage. "Now then," Netero said to himself, eying the dense woods that clung to the mountainside, "where to begin."

"I'm off then!" Gon called as he slipped on his boots and threw open the door. His backpack was slung sloppily off his shoulders, one strap tighter than the other, and his fishing rod—his good one, the one he'd bought from a traveling fisherman—barely secured by the top flap.

Mito waved a dish towel in his direction. "Wait, wait!" she cried. "You can't go out like this. Where are you off to in such a hurry? The professor isn't to give his first talk until this evening."

As Mito adjusted his straps, Gon bounced on his heels. "I can't just sit here and wait," he whined. "I've got to do something. I'm gonna go to the forest and run around for a while. I'll be back before dinner, promise!"

With a heavy sigh that made her shoulders slump, Mito stepped back. "Fine," she said, "but be careful."

"I always am!" Gon shouted, bounding out the door. He raced along the narrow path that wove around the nearest cliff and led to the mountains.

Mito cupped her hands around her mouth. "Don't tell lies, Gon. You're terrible at it!" she yelled.

Though faint, his cry of "Sorry, Aunt Mito!" reached her before she closed the door. With her back against it, she sagged into the wood, her chest tight. She clenched the dish towel in her hand, fingers paling against the cloth.

She pressed her free hand against her teeth and shut her eyes, tightly enough so that the budding tears wouldn't have a place to fall from.

 _Gon_ , she thought, _take care of yourself. Please._


	2. Chapter 2

The brisk mountain air chilled Netero's nostrils each time he inhaled, and his powerful legs propelled him up the steep incline. It had been far too long since the professor had been in the field, surrounded by indigenous wildlife. He'd spent too much time locked away in a cramped laboratory, consulting only notebooks and photographs he'd collected from decades of research, refusing to venture outside lest he find new data (which he was certain would happen).

He'd managed to collect data, with the help of his colleagues on the Zodiac Council, on roughly 386 different species of Pokemon, and he feared he would only continue to discover new creatures, should he venture outside, thus deeming his work incomplete.

This freedom was almost foreign, now.

Netero paused at the apex of the incline, closing his eyes and spreading his arms. He wanted to breathe it all in, fill his body with the essence of Nature until it burst from his pores.

From somewhere above him, he heard a sudden cry, the snap of branches, a prolonged yell that increased in volume, the rustle of leaves torn from their branches. It ceased as suddenly as it had begun. There was no crash, no heavy thud, as expected. Netero opened his eyes.

Suspended in the air, vines woven around his arms and legs, was Gon. His only injury: a gash across his cheek.

"Are you alright?" Netero asked, peering, with furrowed brows, at the entangled boy. When Gon nodded, he asked, "Just how high were you?"

"I was near the top," Gon finally said, whining, wrestling with the vines. "I was so close this time, too!"

"The top…?" Netero tilted his head back to search for the highest point. He couldn't find it; the sun blinded him. He shrugged off the nagging curiosity and moved to Gon's side. "Would you like some help?"

Gon gave one final jerk of his limbs before going limp. "I guess there's no helping it. Thanks, Mister!" Gon said, facing Netero fully for the first time. A moment passed, and Gon's eyes went wide. "Ah! You're the Pokemon professor!"

"You've heard of me?"

"Heard of you!" Gon said, thrashing again, this time with excitement rather than desperation. "I wanted to talk to you! I want to be a Pokemon trainer!"

Netero worked on the vines with a small knife he pulled from his satchel. "You do, do you?" he prompted.

"More than anything!" Gon said. "My father gave up everything to meet you and start training to become a Pokemon Master! I'm gonna do the same and find him!"

"Oh?" Netero said, sawing through the final vine caught around Gon's ankle. "And what is your father's name?"

"Ging!" said Gon, as Netero made the final cut. "Ging Freecs."

For a few brief seconds, the name floated aimlessly in the air between them, Gon rubbing his newly-freed limbs and Netero calmly replacing his knife.

 _Ging Freecs_.

Netero rose. A fresh breeze washed over him, and the skin on his bare arms puckered, perhaps from the cold, perhaps not.

From the depths of his belly, he began to laugh, a genuine gleeful holler that sashayed up his throat and pried open his lips so it, too, could feel the wind on its face.

"Did I say something funny?" Gon said, his head tilted, with a gentle smile.

Netero clapped him on the shoulder and wiped a tear from his eye. "I didn't know Ging had a son. What a wonderful surprise, my boy! I'd be happy to take the Ging Freecs' son under my wing, any day!"

His lips spreading into a smile, Gon clenched both fists and drew them close to his chest.

"I'm afraid," Netero said, interrupting Gon's unabashed joy, "I didn't bring any low-level Pokemon with me. You'll have to come back to my laboratory. It's a bit of a journey."

"I'll go!" Gon said, lips parted. "I'll go as far as I have to."

Netero laughed and planted a hand on Gon's head. "That's good to hear. I like your spirit, my boy. Come," he said, turning toward the town, "you should pack your things. We leave tomorrow."

They began their descent. Netero turned sharply around to face Gon, his expression earnest.

"Forgive me, my boy," the professor said sheepishly, "but please tell me your name."

Grinning once more, Gon said, "My name's Gon, Gon Freecs. It's nice to meet you, Professor Netero!"


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Hi guys, it's been what, a year since I posted the first few chapters? Yikes. I'm planning on moving to AO3, but I wanted to post this chapter here since I finally decided to write it. I really liked this story idea, and I've been slacking with writing in general (even though, like... it's part of my academic studies... I'm an English major... what am I doing...). That being said, I _am_ pretty rusty, and I also definitely did not edit this chapter at all. Sorry for any inconsistencies, but I hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading!

Gon stood at the rear of the ship, waving grandly. "Bye-bye, Aunt Mito!" he cried, grinning. "I'll be back someday!"

"Be careful, Gon!" she shouted back, straining her voice and fighting back tears. When she could no longer see his small form, she lowered her own arms and wrapped them around her waist, as if trying to hold herself together. The situation was too familiar, and it dredged up long-buried phantoms of the past. Another boy, roughly the same age, had already performed this rite, making empty promises and swearing to rise to the top, nearly two decades previously.

But Mito forced a smile. Gon was not his father. Gon was different. No matter what, he would return.

Before stopping at Wailmer Island, the professor's ship had visited a number of distant ports, slowing accumulating potential trainers. Gon's home was the last stop, and he was the final addition.

No one on board expected an easy process. For years it had been known that the Pokemon Trainers were an elite group. Certainly, amateurs could partake in similar activities and train their local Pokemon, but only the truly skilled and worthy could obtain a Trainer ID and travel the world in pursuit of their dreams. And even fewer still were the number of Pokemon Champions and Masters. Only the truly skilled could even dream of obtaining those ranks.

Gon, of course, thought nothing of his dream. Some might call it unreachable, but for him, his dream was just a goal he would fight to make reality.

Once Gon had boarded the ship, the professor disappeared. He wouldn't see the man for several weeks, and he could only guess he'd left on the back of some strong and beautiful creature, something Gon hadn't even seen in his collection of the professor's books.

Thinking only of the ship beneath his feet and the waves around him, Gon breathed deeply of the salty air. Living on Wailmer Island, he had experienced his fair share of ocean life, but rarely had he had the privilege of traversing the seas on a ship, let alone one as well-equipped and lively as this one. Gon closed his eyes and let the salt spray nip his cheeks.

After a short while, Gon realized he was the only one on the upper deck who was not a member of the crew. On his way to the stairs which led into the belly of the boat, Gon caught the arm of a thin shipmate whose foot caught on the edge of the railing.

"Careful, Mister" Gon said with a smile.

The man appeared sheepish as he nodded to Gon in thanks before scurrying away, only to be prodded by bulkier men. Gon could hear their laughter as he neared the stairs, but he decided it wasn't his place to interfere.

As Gon descended, he heard footsteps and turned to see the same crewman from before. His cheeks were flushed, and he offered a sheepish smile, which Gon eagerly returned. He didn't want to ask why the man had decided to accompany him, and he didn't mind the company.

In the lower decks, most of the passengers rested on their backs, arms draped over their eyes. Some pressed their fists to their mouths as their cheeks puffed, eyes shut tight. Others seemed to have collapsed in uncomfortable positions, draped over barrels or with their faces against the floor.

Gon approached the nearest man and knelt by his side. His face was pale.

"Mister, are you alright?" Gon asked, reaching to feel his forehead. But the man slapped his hand away.

"Don't touch me, kid," he growled, immediately gagging after he spoke. "I'm fine. Just... "

"Motion sickness?" Gon supplied, already opening his backpack. He sifted through his belongings, hunting for the first aid kit. To the crewmember, he said, "Please go get some fresh water!" The man scrambled to his feet and stumbled out the doorway without another word.

The man before him scoffed and turned his face away. "Don't be ridiculous, I don't have—"

"Say 'ahh!'" Gona slipped a dried leaf between the man's lips and pressed it down against his tongue. The man choked, trying to spit it out, but Gon held his lips closed.

Unbeknownst to Gon, the captain had also followed him down, and he watched silently from the doorway. The crewman returned with a glass of water, nearly splashing the captain as he apologized and folded his body so as to slide through the opening between the captain and the doorframe. He handed the glass to Gon, who promptly lifted the glass to the sick man's lips and tilted it. He sputtered, but the leaf went down.

Rising, Gon wiped his hands on his shorts. "You'll feel better soon, Mister!" he said, grinning.

In the far corner of the room, a blond haired stranger reclined in a hammock, flipping through the latest edition of the Trainer Handbook. They peered over the pages and smirked. On the floor by the door sat a lanky man with round glasses who snored peacefully, but when the captain looked more closely, he saw that his eyes were cracked, his lips too curved for him to truly be unconscious.

The captain smiled to himself as he retreated to the upper deck. The recruits that year, he thought, had already yielded some promising characters.

Gon grew weary of the confining cabin and decided to return to the deck. The blond and the tall man stopped him.

"Did you give that man poison? To eliminate the competition?" the blond asked. His eyes were strange, Gon noticed, harsh and an uncertain color. But he could only focus on the accusation.

Waving his hands before him, Gon said, "No, no! I gave him medicine! I picked it and dried it on the mountain."

The tall man bent at the waist so their eyes were level. "So you got some 'medicinal herbs' in that back, huh?" he asked, punctuating his remark with stiff air quotes.

Blinking, Gon nodded once. "Yes, that's right."

"Hmph."

The blond rested a hand on Gon's shoulder and offered a forced smile. "You don't seem like you're lying," they said. "But you are pretty young to be going on a journey like this."

"My dad did the same thing when he was my age," Gon said, his eyes sparkling. "He only ever came back home to hand me off to Aunt Mito! So I want to catch up to him and find him. I'll do whatever it takes."

"What an honest kid," the tall man said with a sneer. "Want to sit down and tell us your whole life story while you're at it? Shouldn't take long." He patted Gon's head, messing up his hair. "Didn't anyone tell you that you're allowed to lie to strangers? The world's dangerous, kid."

Gon filled his cheeks with air before speaking. "My name's Gon. And Aunt Mito said that if you lie too much, your hair falls out, your teeth rot, and everyone starts to hate you," he said matter-of-factly.

A moment of silence passed between the three of them. Then, the blond doubled over, laughing. The sound was light, and Gon found it pleasant enough to join in. The tall man just fumed, huffing and crossing his arms.

"I like you, Gon. My name's Kurapika," the blond said, extending a hand.

"Nice to meet you!" Gon said, grasping the outstretched hand and shaking it with fervor. He turned to the tall man, whose cheeks had turned bright red, even in the dim light. "What's your name?"

Jutting his chin out, the man said, "You don't need to know."

Pouting, Gon tugged on the sleeve of the man's blue blazer. "Come on, mister. Let's be friends!"

The man's willpower, it seemed, was not so great, as he gave in and extended a hand with a sigh. "Leorio."

"It's nice to meet you, Leorio!"

After their brief introductions, Gon convinced the others to follow him to the main deck. The air had grown warmer, and the salt clung to Gon's skin. He savored the sea-tinged air and spread his arms, closing his eyes once more.

But soon he realized that the winds had begun to stir, and the cries of sea bird Pokemon grew frantic. When Gon reopened his eyes, the activity on the ship hadn't changed, but he felt something was off. Wingulls scattered, flying over the boat in a swarm, squawking as they fled in the opposite direction.

Something was wrong.

Though Gon did not immediately realize, the captain of the ship had emerged from his quarters and was watching not only the sky but Gon, too. He was intrigued by the boy's sudden stiffness, as well as how easily he navigated the ship's unstable deck. Puffing on his pipe, the captain said nothing, holding his tongue as the ship pressed onward.

As the sea Pokemon grew more uneasy, Gon could no longer restrain himself. He leapt at the pole which boasted the crow's nest. He didn't pay attention to the cries of caution from his new companions. They, he determined, did not sense anything was amiss.

With nimble limbs and inhuman speed, he scaled the pole and pulled himself over the edge of the empty nest. Standing on his toes, he peered out into the distance, squinting and shielding his eyes from the sun.

Though the sky directly above the ship appeared clear and blue, in the far distance, Gon detected a growing darkness. If he hadn't spent most of his time in the mountains and trained his senses to detect the slightest of changes in his environment, he might had been at a disadvantage. But now that he knew the ship was in danger, he knew he had to notify the captain.

From the deck, the captain watched Gon. When it seemed that Gon was ready to jump down, the captain cupped his hands around his mouth and called up to him. "What's wrong, boy?"

Gon started, then faced the captain and mimicked the gesture. "There's a storm coming, sir!" he cried.

"But the sky," the captain said, hiding his intentions. "It looks so blue! There's no sign of rain here."

"Maybe not _here_ ," Gon said, pointing into the distance, "but it's coming straight for us. The Wingulls were shouting for a reason! The clouds don't lie!"

Kurapika and Leorio, overhearing this conversation, thought Gon's words sounded much like nonsense. The language of Pokemon was practically incomprehensible, and no clouds were visible above them. And yet Kurapika felt a certain kind of dread settle over their body, and they moved instinctively, sidling up to the captain, whose face showed his satisfaction with Gon's observations.

"Sir," Kurapika said, hands folded behind their back, "what should we do?"

"Tie up the masts," the captain said, blowing smoke from his mouth and turning toward the approaching horizon, "and steady yourselves. This storm is going to be a rough one."


End file.
